


thunderstruck

by anastasiathegemini



Series: Kyman week 2020 [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Britney Spears - Freeform, Eric Cartman goes to therapy, Kyle has anxiety, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:48:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25031206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastasiathegemini/pseuds/anastasiathegemini
Summary: Kyle had a thing about beds. And loud noises. And being forced to sleep next to Eric Cartman.Kyle thinks he’s far too young to have Britney Spears fuck up his life this often.
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski/Eric Cartman, heavily implied Stan Marsh/Kenny McCormick
Series: Kyman week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1811041
Comments: 1
Kudos: 101





	thunderstruck

**Author's Note:**

> Kyman day two! Prompt: sharing a bed.

“Okay, this doesn’t make any fucking sense! If Cartman won four tickets, why would they give him a hotel room with only two beds?” Kyle snapped while staring holes through the offending beds. He’d obviously be sharing with Stan, which is fine, but he was already in a bad mood. 

“Do I look like I know the answer to that?” Cartman shot back, yanking on a piece of Kyle’s hair. 

“Not to put the nail in the coffin, but I’m not sharing with you, Kyle. Last time we shared a bed you kept me up all night!” Stan said while Kenny made obscene hand gestures. 

“Hell yeah, he did,” 

“Kenny, shut the fuck up.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. Stan wasn’t exactly wrong. He had a thing about sleeping in beds that aren’t his. He wasn’t really sure why, he just always felt on edge and wrong when not in his own bed. Sometimes it was just a vaguely uncomfortable feeling, and other times it could lead to an anxiety attack. 

“And before you ask, I’m sharing with Stan.” Kenny said with a wink, already headed out to the balcony of the hotel room for a smoke. Kenny was a bastard, and very determined to sleep with all of his friends. It took Kyle a moment to process what that meant for him. 

“You want me to share with fat boy over here? You think that’s a good idea? You really think he won’t try to murder me in my sleep?” Kyle asked, concerns falling on deaf ears. 

“Is Kyle being a homophobe? Kyle, I thought you of all people would understand because of how far the hippie’s dick is down your throat-“  
Kyle cut Cartman off with a swift punch to the gut. Ever since Cartman came out when he was fourteen, it just gave him new ammunition. It mostly included accusing Kyle of being a bigot. 

“I’m not going to even fight back right now, because I need beauty rest to see motherfuckin’ Britney Spears tomorrow!” Cartman said, not phased by Kyle’s attack. 

“Okay homos, I’m going to the hotel bar to collect people for an orgy, smell you later,” Kenny smirked, clearly already in his ‘I’m going to get laid’ headspace, which meant he was exactly the same but with an air of excessive confidence. Stan got up to join him. 

“I’m coming too. To, um, get laid, also.” Stan really was the fucking worst at pretending he didn’t have drinking problem. Kyle waved them off. 

“Whatever, twenty bucks it’ll take forty seven minutes and 3 mixed drinks for you to suck Kenny’s dick in the bathroom.” 

“Dude, why does no one understand I’m straight?” 

“Have you not realized that it doesn’t matter with Kenny? Both Token and Clyde are straight, and look how that turned out!” Kyle laughed. Stan shook his head. Kenny just had that kind of power. 

“Okay dude, you’re on. You get twenty bucks if I don’t hook up with Kenny. Goodbye.” With that, Stan follows Kenny out the door. At some point during the conversation Cartman had retreated to the bathroom, most likely to start his extremely elaborate skin care routine. He always was exceptionally flamboyant. Kyle wasn’t at all surprised when he came out. Everyone else was, for some reason. He asked Kenny why that was, and then he and Kenny had the most bizarre and eye-opening conversation of Kyle’s life. 

“Dude, I don’t know how no one saw it except for me, it was so obvious!” Kyle said to Kenny, but mostly to himself. Kenny turned to face Kyle. 

“Remember how we all thought Tweek was crazy and we just kinda wrote him off, but Craig found out he actually had a drug problem?”

“Uh, yes? What does that have to do with this?” Kyle asked. Kenny sighed and put his cigarette out. 

“So like, Tweek never told him about it and Craig never like walked in on him doing anything, but he figured it out all his own, because when you love someone, and they love you, you see parts of them that no one else does,” Kyle opened his mouth to ask if Kenny was actually implying that he loved Cartman, but he held up a finger to signify he wasn’t done yet. 

“Kyle, what’s the opposite of love?” 

“Uh, hate?” 

“No. Hate and love are opposite sides of the same coin. The opposite of love is indifference.” And with that, Kenny got up from the park bench and walked away, letting Kyle work through his thoughts.

He mulled over what Kenny said for a very long time. It made sense; whether you hate someone or love them, they still occupy a piece of your brain. Kyle was self aware enough to know that his hatred for Cartman was similar to being in love. He saw Cartman, really saw him, and isn’t that love? To see and be seen? 

Stripping down to his boxers, he looked at the bed. Would it be weird to only wear boxers? He’s done weirder with these guys, and if he wanted a chance at sleeping, he needed to be comfortable. Whatever, if it becomes an issue he’ll deal with it when he gets there. 

The bed was surprisingly nice. Hotel beds made Kyle the most nervous. At least Stan’s bed was slept-in and personal. Hotel beds are cold and standard, none of the intimacy a bed should have. 

Outside, lightning shot through the sky, followed closely by a clap of thunder. Great. 

Usually storms didn’t bother Kyle, but he was already on edge, and the loud noises didn’t help. The wind began to whip and rain pelted the sliding glass door to the balcony. Kyle did have one saving grace, and it was a stuffed animal frog named Glen that was in his bag. He brought it in case sleeping in the hotel got too bad, but didn’t want to bring it out in case the guys ragged on him for it. And by the guys, he means Cartman. 

Another round of thunder shook the sky, and Kyle burrowed further under the sheets. He was falling hard into his own anxious mind. He stuck his arm out, reached blindly for his bag, and pulled out Glen. While doing so, he didn’t hear the bathroom door open and shut. However, he did notice the bed dip under someone’s weight. 

“Please leave me alone,” Kyle whimpered, voice weaker than he’d like while addressing Eric Cartman. He braced himself, waiting for Cartman to call him a pussy, but instead he got a hand petting his unruly hair. 

“Are you okay?” Cartman asked, voice so gentle he almost sounded like his mother. 

“Obviously not. Why are you being nice?” Kyle rolled over to face Cartman, who was mostly a shadow in the dark room. Cartman pressed his lips together in an expression that was less than a smile. 

“I’m, uh, supposed to be nice to my friends, according to my therapist,” Right, Cartman had been going to therapy. He was pretty much the same old asshole, but his scheming had been to a minimum lately. 

“That doesn’t explain why you’re being nice.” 

Cartman laid down next to Kyle and studied the ceiling. 

“I do actually care about things, you know. Just because I do whatever I want and mostly only do things for my own benefit doesn’t mean I can’t have feelings.” Kyle nodded to himself at that. It actually made sense. There was evidence that Cartman cared about his cat, and maybe his mom, and possibly Butters. And him, apparently. 

Cartman rolled to face Kyle. He always was the biggest in the group, but now he was the tallest too. Their feet were level with each other but Kyle’s head only came up to Cartman’s chest. It made him feel safe, in a way. Cartman reached out and hesitantly put his hand on Kyle’s shoulder. 

“Is it okay if I...” Kyle answered by pressing his whole body against him. He didn’t care if it was weird, that he was cuddling with Cartman, the only thing that mattered is that it felt nice, that he felt relaxed in his arms. He could dissect it in the morning. Cartman moved his arm to wrap around Kyles waist. 

It was weird how not weird it was. Cartman was very warm, and Kyle was glad he was too worn out from being anxious to freak out about this. Cartman’s heartbeat and rhythmic breathing was soothing, and his thumb that was rubbing circles in his waist helped too. It was better than the time Stan held him after an attack. Stan was full of nervous energy, unsure of what to do, and it made Kyle feel worse. Stan was also stick-thin, and didn’t make for good cuddling. Cartman, however, was soft, and seemed to know what to do. 

Kyle woke up, but didn’t open his eyes. He was so, so warm, probably how a puppy felt when it falls asleep with all the other puppies in a big pile. It’s morning, which means now he’s allowed to dissect what happened last night, but quite frankly, he didn’t want to or need to. Kenny’s little talk should have included the part where love and hate are a horseshoe, and that the easiest way to get to the other side of the horseshoe was to jump across the top. 

Kyle sleepily opened his eyes and glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table. 10:03 am. Huh. He’d never slept so long or so well in a bed that wasn’t his own. He smiled to himself and stretched, but stopped short when he noticed something next to the clock on the table. 

Someone had left him a twenty dollar bill.


End file.
